Masturbation Erotica
“Experimental,” a quirky erotic story by Erin O’Riordan
“I can’t do it.”
Quill spoke, and Tori’s eyes automatically went to him. His voice, with its exotic, somewhere-in-the-British Isles accent, commanded attention, even if it was somewhat muffled from where she stood behind the two-way mirror. It certainly got Brad’s attention.
Brad pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and looked up from the note he’d been writing on his clipboard. “Which part can you not do?”
Self-consciously, Quill folded his hands in his lap. “I can’t do any of this. Not with you watching.”
Brad snorted slightly. “You know the experimental protocol. I have to watch.”
“When your lab partner explained the protocol to me, she didn’t mention I would be alone in the room with you.”
“Do I make you uncomfortable?”
Quill shook his head, and his toffee-colored bangs fell in front of his eyes. He didn’t push them aside. “I’ve never been able to maintain an erection when I’m alone with another guy. Nothing personal, but I’m only interested in women.”
Brad looked down at the clipboard again and made another note. “If you are unable to complete the experimental protocol, you’ll only be paid fifty dollars instead of the full three hundred.”
Behind the mirror, Doctor Roth turned to Tori. “I’ll bet you anything he had a trauma in childhood, or perhaps early adolescence.”
She smiled. “Brad, or Subject 73?”
Out loud, she referred to the toffee-haired man with the elegant cheekbones, long, thin nose, broad shoulders, and U.K. accent as Subject 73. Internally, Tori knew his name was Quill Dane. She’d watched Quill filling out the paperwork, and she also knew he lived on a street called Lisbon. Secretly Tori wondered if Lisbon Street had a neighborhood pub, and if it was against the experimental protocol for a scientist to accidentally-on-purpose run into a test subject at his local bar.
Dr. Roth’s stern face brought her back to the moment. “Miss Green, what do I say about crude jokes in the laboratory?”
She knew the question was rhetorical. She also knew Dr. Roth was insistent that all graduate students who volunteered to help with the sex research had to conduct themselves professionally at all times.
“Take his place,” Dr. Roth told her.
Tori hesitated. Dr. Roth noticed.
“Subject 73 can’t masturbate with another male in the room, so you have to take Brad’s place. It’s only logical. I need these results, Miss Green.”
“I know,” she said, nodding. She pulled out her cell phone and sent a blank text message to Brad, signaling him to leave the experimental room.
“Excuse me,” Brad told Quill. “Don’t do anything while I’m gone.”
“Can I at least cover up while I’m waiting?”
“No,” Brad said. “It won’t be long.”
Tori waited for Brad, where she knew Quill couldn’t hear them. “I’m taking your place,” she told Brad.
“Good luck,” he told her. “I’m not sure this guy is cut out for this study.”
“I’m willing to give him a chance with Tori,” Dr. Roth said.
"Nurse 2" by Gernot
Brad snorted. “Most subjects are more comfortable with a lab assistant of the same sex.”
“Most, but not all,” Roth pointed out. “We’re going to let Tori try.”
Brad handed the paperwork off to Tori. She walked around to the door and cleared her throat. She knocked, and then announced loudly, “Subject 73, this is the lab assistant. May I enter?”
“Why not?” he said. She smiled, but wiped the smile from her face before entering the room.
Quill smiled slightly when he saw her, but quickly lowered his eyes toward the floor. Of course, Tori realized, he probably couldn’t see much beyond his bare thighs from where he sat.
“Is it too cold in here?” she asked. “I can adjust the thermostat if you’re uncomfortable.”
“I’m fine, thanks,” he said.
“Do you need any reminders of the experimental procedure?” she asked, looking at Brad’s notes.
He thought for a moment. “I’m allowed to talk to you, right?”
“Of course,” she said. “You may begin whenever you’re ready.”
He raised his head, making eye contact with her, briefly, before closing his eyes. She couldn’t help but notice his eyelashes were the same toffee color as his slightly overgrown hair. Her eyes traveled down his long nose, to his chin, his throat, his chest. He wore the same short, midriff-exposing, light blue hospital gown all the subjects were required to wear. But, Tori thought, he wore it much better than her other subjects had. His stomach muscles were relaxed, and they still looked flat and tight.
“You’ve done this before?” he asked, startling her slightly, as the fingers of one hand wrapped around his penis.
“Yes,” she said.
“With other men?”
“No. You’re my first male subject.”
A smile stretched his lips wide. With his free hand, he reached behind him to the counter and felt for the small paper cup containing a lubricant. He squeezed the cup’s contents onto the head of his penis with one hand and rubbed it in with the other. No doubt he was picturing Tori watching the other women masturbating.
She watched him intently, as was her part in the experiment. She saw precisely what she’d expected to see: his fingertips paid special attention to the most sensitive part of his penis, the underside of the corona. It was roughly equivalent to the way she’d seen most of the female subjects manipulate the clitoris.
In the back of her mind, Tori noted her own arousal. This, also, was to be expected. She’d felt it with the women, and she wasn’t even typically attracted to other women. She’d felt it on the other side of the two-way mirror, watching Brad as he observed the other male subjects, even when the subject in question wasn’t particularly her type. Quill Dane was her type, to be sure, and there was no way to get around the fact that watching him masturbate was sexually stimulating.
“Your turn,” he said, and once again his voice surprised her. “Ask me a question.” His hand never stopped moving.
“Where are you from?”
He smiled; he liked the question.
“Cardiff.”
Wales, she thought. Exotic.
“My turn again,” he said. “Will you come a little closer? That is, if experimental procedure allows it?”
She hesitated.
“I’m not going to touch you,” he said. “I’m not going to ask you to touch me, either.”
“That would be strictly against the procedure.”
“Of course. But I do want to know what you smell like.” She turned her head, curious, so he explained, “Your perfume. Your shampoo. Every woman has her own soft scent, and it will help me imagine.”
“I have to keep my eyes on you,” she said.
“I know. But you could still see from a closer vantage point, could you not?”
Tori wanted to come closer, but didn’t want to jeopardize the experiment. She knew Dr. Roth and Brad were watching her from the other side of the two-way mirror. At the first sign she or Subject 73¾Quill¾had invalidated the experimental procedure, Dr. Roth would simply throw out Quill’s results. Then all of Quill’s work would be for nothing… of no scientific value, at any rate.
“Please,” Quill said. “For the experiment’s sake.”
Tori took two halting steps closer to the semi-naked experimental subject. She wasn’t wearing perfume, and didn’t know if he could smell the faint scent of shampoo in her hair or not, but she could smell him. His aftershave was the main component of his pleasant smell, but underneath there was a hint of sweaty male musk. Her cheeks felt hot, and Tori was suddenly very aware of her own arousal, her increased heart rate, the blood pounding furiously through her veins. Dr. Roth and Brad must surely be aware of it, too.
“Your turn,” Quill said. There was a distinct catch in his voice.
She asked the first question that came to mind. “Does it feel good?”
He answered wordlessly, demonstrating his more than adequate pleasure with labored breathing, punctuated with the gasps and moans of a man firmly in the grip of an intense orgasm. She waited for his fingers to be still before taking her eyes off him long enough to make notes at the bottom of the page Brad had started.
“Thank you for your participation, Mr. Dane,” Tori said as she scribbled her observations. “There are pre-moistened towels behind you if you’d like to clean up before you get dressed. When you’ve dressed, please report to the room at the end of the hall for your post-experimental briefing.”
He looked at her and covered his genitals with both hands, suddenly modest now that the experiment was over. “You never told me your name,” he said. “It’s my turn again, and my last question is, what’s your name?”
“Victoria,” she said. “Tori, for short.”
He nodded. “You look more like a Tori than a Vicky.”
“Thank you,” she said, strangely certain he’d meant the offhand remark as a compliment. “I’ll leave you to cleaning up and getting dressed.”
She walked out of the room, pulling the door fully closed behind her, and took her time getting back behind the two-way mirror. Brad was hunched over the table, studying a set of data from a previous experiment. Dr. Roth’s eyes met her gaze as she walked into the room.
“You handled that well,” he said.
“Thank you, Doctor.”
“You did, however, call him by his proper name.”
A chilly wave of panic ran through Tori, erasing the hot, unfulfilled feelings of sexual longing she’d left the experiment with. “Did I violate the experimental procedure? Did I invalidate the results?”
“No,” Dr. Roth said casually. “You should, however, wait until you get off campus before you allow him to ask you out.” He smirked. “I’ll go debrief 73 if you’ll get started on your interview with Subject 74. She’s filling out her paperwork in the waiting room.”
Once again, a blush rose to Tori’s cheeks. “Will do.”
As Dr. Roth walked out of the room, Brad looked up from his data. “Really, Tori?”
She nodded.
“What do you see in him, anyway? What’s he got that I don’t?”
Tori chuckled; she could have listed off so many things. And it wasn’t just the ones she and Brad could see. It was also the smell of him, the sounds he made. “Welsh accent,” she said.
Brad snorted. Tori placed her fingers on the glass and watched Quill pull on his boxer-briefs through the mirror as Brad mumbled something about foreigners taking all the best jobs.
Originally Published January 2010